


Breaking the Mudblood

by Bunney



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 06:40:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunney/pseuds/Bunney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After capturing Harry Potter and his friends, and bringing them to Malfoy Manor, Greyback sets his sights on Hermione and shows her the true worth of a Mudblood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking the Mudblood

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the latest round at [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=hp_darkfest)[](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=hp_darkfest)**hp_darkfest** , from the prompt: **"I like it when you're scared. The more I scare you, the better you smell." - BTVS; what if Dobby had arrived at Malfoy Manor two hours later than he did in Deathly Hallows?**

  
**Title:** Breaking the Mudblood  
**Author:** Krissy  
**Pairing:** Fenrir Greyback/Hermione Granger  
**Summary:** After capturing Harry Potter and his friends, and bringing them to Malfoy Manor, Greyback sets his sights on Hermione and shows her the true worth of a Mudblood.  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Word count:** 6324  
**Warnings:** Rape, severe abuse, torture, extreme violence, knife play, blood play  
**Spoilers:** Chapter 23 of Deathly Hallows; Hermione is 18. Spoilers for the Deathly Hallows film.  
**Author's notes:** This is my entry for the latest round at [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=hp_darkfest)[**hp_darkfest**](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=hp_darkfest) , from the prompt: **"I like it when you're scared. The more I scare you, the better you smell." - BTVS; what if Dobby had arrived at Malfoy Manor two hours later than he did in Deathly Hallows?**

This is written as a missing scene during the events of Chapter 23, in Deathly Hallows. The story is told from Greyback's sole PoV. Many thanks to [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=rivertempest)[**rivertempest**](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=rivertempest) for her invaluable brainstorming and bucket loads of thanks (and roses and champagne and kisses) to my beta [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=sbrande)[**sbrande**](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=sbrande) for all of her incomparable hard work, encouragement, and handholding. You ladies are the BEST! Any mistakes are my own.

****PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS! This is a very, _very_ violent rape scenario - read at your own risk****

 

 

The heavy musk of her fear hung in the air, raising the hackles on his neck and stiffening his prick. It was sickly-sweet, like something small and furry gone rancid. It made his mouth water for what he knew was to come.

He fell into a half-crouch, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, humming to himself in tune with the girl's screams. Bellatrix Lestrange was playing with his new toy, casting her Dark curses and stripping away like the peel of an orange the girl's foolish, pointless courage.

The little thing was tough, he had to give her that; she had held up far better under torture than that silly schoolteacher had, months ago. The wolf inside him hadn't had a taste for _her_ ; she was too old, too passive in her fear. But this one, this young girl on the cusp of womanhood, oh, she was sweet like a baby's cunt and he would feast on her until her blood dripped from his lips and the shreds of her still-beating heart caught in his teeth.

He wanted her; to eat, to fuck, to play with as a cat does with a mouse, but make no mistake, he _wanted_ her. Just the thought of it made his gut clench with anticipation. He would have her first; show her a Mudblood's place, on her hands and knees with her arse in the air. Then he would eat her softest parts - her cunt; her small, childish breasts; the meaty cheeks of her arse. Perhaps, if he was feeling generous, he'd let her live as one of his own. If the Dark Lord wished it, of course.

He swallowed the bitter resentment that was crawling up his throat. He regretted it now, siding with that creature called Voldemort. Wolves were made to lead, not follow, and with their freedom sharply curtailed, he was losing his influence over the pack. They were angry, both at their situation and at him for leading them into what was proving to be a far more humiliating task. He should have waited until the tide had turned; waited until neither Dark nor Light was strong enough to hold back the wolves' rage. If only he had endured, then they could have destroyed them all and had their pick of the witches and children. Especially the children.

However, the years of war and hiding had made him a very patient creature, and he could linger until Bellatrix had exhausted her fury on the girl. It mattered not to him if the child was driven to insanity from the Cruciatus. Her flesh would be just as sweet.

Bellatrix shrieked another curse and the girl's back bowed with impossible flexibility, leaving only her thin shoulders and soles of her shoes on the floor. Bellatrix laughed with demented joy as the girl's body twisted and turned in a rictus of agony, her screams growing shriller as her voice gave out.

Another heady wave of pheromones washed over him and he whimpered in response. The beast inside him was now so close to the surface that he could feel his bones grinding together in an effort to escape the confines of his human self. He reached between his legs and fisted his prick through his trousers, focusing on the pleasure, his eyes fastened on the girl's terrified face.

She was so beautiful in her suffering.

The girl had pissed herself; a spreading stain darkened the crotch of her denims and the acrid smell of it reminded him of the village cats he used to trap and devour as a child, fur and meat and bone all at once, before his parents had finally abandoned him in their panic, for he was no longer the son they had once loved.

Bellatrix released the Cruciatus, and the girl fell limply to the floor, rolling onto her side and vomiting thin, watery bile onto the Aubusson carpet.

He looked up at Narcissa Malfoy; her lips were a narrow white line of dismay, but when she lifted her gaze from the girl to find him staring at _her_ , he could see a shadow of pity there. He grinned at her, giving her a lurid show of licking his lips and teeth, and she turned away, to stare blankly at her husband's chest. Lucius reached out and took her hand in his, but his gaze, too, was fixed on the sobbing girl lying at Bellatrix's feet.

Still, despite the violent tremors shaking the girl's body, she did not break.

Bellatrix stood over her, her rage a black, tangible thing that even the wolf inside him rightfully feared.

"Such a brave girl. What will it take to shatter you, little Mudblood?" she whispered, bending low to prod the girl in the cheek with her wand.

Where the girl found a reserve of desperate strength he didn't know, but she lurched to her feet, swaying like a drunkard, and spat in the witch's face. "More th-than you've g-got, you crazy bitch," she cried out, with her dark, wet eyes ablaze with the kind of righteous light more likely found on the face of a vicar telling Sunday tales of hellfire and brimstone.

Someone laughed; it was too high-pitched for him to tell if it was Narcissa or her craven cub, hiding behind her skirt. Bellatrix's face darkened and even he cowered back from the unholy fury in her eyes. She raised her wand, her red lips parting to offer the girl her last rites, and in despair of losing this one to the Killing Curse - for dead, cold flesh was unpalatable - he whined.

Bellatrix turned slowly to look at him; by her expression he knew she had forgotten that he was in the room. He lunged towards her, catching himself with one fist on the floor, then rose to face her. She stepped back warily, raising her hand to wipe away the glob of spittle on her cheek.

"Let me have her," he said, looking into the face of the mad witch. "When I'm done with her, she'll sing all her secrets to the tune of ‘God Save the Queen’".

He could see the battle waging in her eyes; she thirsted for revenge for the petty insult, yet the twisted creature that dwelled in Bellatrix Lestrange's hollow soul thrilled at the promise of pleasures far more monstrous. During this charged silence, Lucius stepped forward, laying a hand upon his sister-in-law's bony shoulder.

"Let him have her, Bella. But, we should keep her alive until the Dark Lord arrives; her final fate rests with him," Lucius said, looking him in the eyes. His voice was calm, despite the tension that was rising to a peak in the room.

Bellatrix shook off his hand, her lush mouth twisted with irritation, but she nodded in agreement. Lifting her wand again, she pressed it into the hollow of the girl's throat and smiled.

"I pity you, Mudblood," she said in a voice that offered very little sympathy. "Oh, the things he will do to you...you'll know then what the true use of a Mudblood is, won't you?"

The girl whimpered and swayed, her knees buckling under her. Reaching out, he caught the back of her jacket before she could fall, pulling her against his body in triumph. She felt small in his hands, dainty, like a child's doll. She clearly hadn't been eating well while on the run with her friends, yet she hadn't lost enough weight to give her the hard, sinewy meat of the malnourished. He lifted her by her arms, until her trainers skimmed the floor as she thrashed and kicked her heels against his shins. He held her tight, her arse snug against his crotch, and let her frantic struggles for freedom arouse him further. He growled in her ear, thrusting his hips in his growing excitement.

"That's right, little one. Fight me. It'll only make it that much more exciting when I fuck you."

She was heaving against him, the sound of her sobs vibrating through his chest. He laughed as he dipped his head and licked the side of her face, nipping at the curve of her jaw. Her skin was salty with tears and sweat. She threw her head back in an effort to break his nose, but anticipating this, he dropped her, and she fell hard onto her hands and knees.

She was on her feet to flee before he could grab her, but instead of running for the door, she surprised him by flinging herself at Narcissa Malfoy's feet.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" she screamed at the startled woman. "Have you no mercy at _all_?"

Narcissa took a step back, her face pale with distaste, but it was her son that took a lone step forward, his foot connecting with the girl's shoulder, shoving her roughly away.

"You don't speak to her, Mudblood," he said with a sneer. The girl could only stare bleakly at him.

Bellatrix strode forward and grabbed the girl by a handful of her long hair; she dragged her back to the center of the room and threw her to the floor. With casual diffidence, she cast another Cruciatus; the girl shrieked and clawed at the carpet in a desperate attempt to escape the bone-twisting pain of the curse. When Bellatrix lifted her wand at last, the girl lay still, gasping weakly, her tear-stained cheek pressed to the floor beneath her.

Bellatrix cocked her head and glared at him.

"Well? She's all yours, beast. Get on with it, then."

Ignoring the deranged witch, he strode forward, attention fully on the half-conscious girl in the middle of the room. Upon reaching her, he dropped to his knees and nudged the girl over onto her back. She was in a swoon; her eyelashes fluttered weakly against her ashen skin. He leant over her, straddling her hips. Callously, he slapped her face.

"Wakey, wakey, little girl. Time to play."

Awake she came, with a fury; her fist slammed into his temple, as her knees swung up and into his testicles. He howled out as pain exploded through his groin.

_The bitch is insane,_ he thought with bitter humor. Bellatrix Lestrange had driven her right over the edge, for what else could explain her stupidity?

He rolled off her, and came up to his knees. Bellatrix was cackling madly, which only contrasted with the Malfoys' stunned silence. He growled low in his chest, furious and wildly aroused that this little Mudblood dared to strike him. For her audacity, he would _break_ her into pieces, _fuck_ her into obedience, and _feast_ on her dirty, dirty flesh.

When she turned to look at him, her face stark with terror and a final kind of fatalistic determination, he struck her. The back of his hand caught her across the mouth; blood sprayed from her split lips in a fine, crimson splatter. Before she could fall, he grabbed her around the neck and squeezed. She clawed at his hands, at his face, whatever part of him she could reach, but they were kitten scratches, really. The wildcat in her was quickly vanishing along with her air supply. When she went limp, her face blooming purple in her desperation to breathe, he dragged her close and bared his teeth.

"Ready to behave now, girly?" he asked, dropping her to the floor and grabbing her by the hair again. He unbuckled his belt, whipping it out of the loops and folding it in half. Drawing his arm back, he cracked the belt across the side of her face, instantly raising a vivid welt along her cheekbone.

She shrieked, throwing up her arms to shield her face as he continued to beat her with the wide, leather strap. He brought the belt down on her back and thighs with methodical fury, with a force that he knew would turn her skin black even beneath her clothes.

Finally, he tossed aside the belt and dragged her close, until her face was pressed right against his crotch; he lewdly rubbed the bulge of his erection against her bruised cheek. She tried to pull her face away by pushing against his thighs, however, he was just too physically powerful. She whimpered helplessly as he undid his fly and pulled out his prick. He was harder than he'd ever been before; just the anticipation of fucking this girl made his blood boil in lust.

He jerked her head back hard, adjusting his grip on her hair until his sharp nails were digging into her scalp. Rivulets of blood began to seep down the back of her skull. The rich, coppery scent of it surrounded him. The girl glared mutely up at him, fear and revulsion and rage in her accusatory eyes.

"Now, you know the rules, Mudblood," he snarled. "Bite my prick, and Ginger downstairs gets his guts pulled out through his arse."

"You d-don't touch h-him!" she stammered, her hands pressing again at his leather-clad thighs in a futile effort to escape.

He laughed at her pathetic plea. Taking himself in hand, he rubbed the head of his prick against her face and nudged it into the soft meat of her cheek.

"Don't you worry your pretty head about Ginger. The Dark Lord will take care of him in short order. Him, and your boy Potter. Now, open those pretty lips, Mudblood, and take your medicine. And if I feel your teeth, I'll slice off Ginger's prick and feed it to you."

Still she struggled, refusing to open that pretty mouth for him, so he slipped his thumb between her chapped lips and pried it open. He dug deeper, gouging at her gums and cheek with his filthy claw tip; blood coated his thumb in short order as she screamed out in pain.

Taking the opportunity her scream offered, he pushed his prick into her mouth and straight down her throat. The girl fought wildly to breathe, her throat convulsing around him in an attempt to vomit. Holding her firmly, her mane in one hand, he grasped the base of his prick in the other, letting the ragged edges of his nails slice her skin every time he pressed her reddening face right into the matted gray hair at his crotch.

When he felt the first scrape of her teeth on him, he withdrew before she could bite down and slapped her twice in succession.

"What did I tell you, bitch? Do it again and you'll be sorry." He immediately filled her mouth with his prick and she struggled again to breathe. A thick stream of saliva and blood slipped out of the side of her mouth as a bubble of snot formed over one nostril. The wolf thrust leisurely over her tongue and against the roof of her mouth, his girth stretching her lips wide, reveling in the way it made her throat constrict around him. She gagged violently each time the head of his prick pushed against her soft palate.

_The girl's an adequate little cocksucker_ , he thought savagely. _But, it's time to show her her true worth._

He had plans for this one; he could fill her gut with his come later. Pulling out of her mouth, he pushed her away. She collapsed to the floor, coughing and retching helplessly, shuddering with each spasm.

"I have no intention of watching this," Narcissa said coldly. "Draco, come with me..."

Bellatrix spun around, her wand pointed directly at her sister. "No. Sit _down_ , Cissy. No one leaves this room."

Narcissa stared at her in shock. "You will not order me around in my own home, Bella! I don't care what you do with the girl, but I don't have to watch it! Nor will I allow my son..."

"Your son!" Bellatrix mocked. "Your spineless son _needs_ to see this! He needs to see what animals Mudbloods truly are!"

Narcissa knocked Bellatrix's wand hand away. "You _dare_ speak to me like that! Who do you think you are?"

"I'm the Dark Lord's favorite!"

"I don't care!"

Bellatrix goggled wildly at her sister's embittered words.

Tuning out the arguing witches - the two sisters did little these days _but_ argue - he crouched down in front of the girl, reaching out to smooth her tangled, brown curls from her face. She was crying, her lips pressed tightly together to muffle the sound; still, she glowered at him, brave until the very last.

"Dry your tears, little girl. I haven't given you anything to cry about yet."

He stood up, pulling her up with him by the collar of her jacket. Reaching into his boot, he drew out his own knife, a serviceable blade that had tasted the blood of more than one mewling Muggle child.

Twisting her long hair around his burly fist to keep her secure, he slid the long blade underneath her rumpled clothing and began cutting the fabric away from her battered body. He was careless with his task; the blade nicked her fair skin in several places, the wounds oozing with bright stripes of blood that he yearned to taste.

He was nearly mad with the thought of consuming her whole.

When he had finally stripped away the last shreds of her clothing, he flung her again to the floor, pressing her face into the carpet. Holding her by the neck, he crouched over the girl and sucked at the salty-sweet blood dripping from the cuts he'd made on her. He straddled her and thrust his aching prick against her plump arse, nipping more forcefully at her abused skin. Anticipating her renewed fight, he bit down hard on her right shoulder, blood flowing into his mouth, while he ground his erection against her backside. Her screams filled the drawing room.

“Enough of this,” Narcissa hissed, directing her comment to Bellatrix. “Do what you want, Draco and I are leaving.”

“Coward!” Bellatrix bellowed at her sister. “I can't stomach the sight of you.”

“In that case, I’ll remove myself.” Narcissa grabbed Draco by the arm and ushered him out of the room, giving him no choice but to follow. With a lingering glance at the writhing girl on the floor, Lucius left as well.

“Fools,” Bellatrix muttered. “But I’m not.” She moved closer until Greyback snarled at her.

“She’s mine!” He swiped at her with his grimy claws, but Bellatrix danced nimbly out of his reach. With a cackle of delight, she retaliated by casting another Cruciatus at the girl.

“Bad doggy! You should learn to share your toys!”

The girl's body arched unnaturally, as another hoarse scream was dragged from her lungs. Despite her size, she bucked him off of her. Rolling to his feet, he callously wrapped his rough fingers around Bellatrix’s wrist and twisted until she lowered her wand, ending the curse.

“You gave her to me! She’s mine to deal with, woman!” The blood lust was rushing in his veins and he didn't care if Bellatrix Lestrange was the Dark Lord's favorite pet; he would just as happily dig her heart out of her chest with his bare hands and eat it until the blood flowed over his tongue and dripped from his chin. She wouldn't, she _couldn't_ , stop him.

Nothing, _nothing_ would stand in his way now. The Mudblood child was his.

"Get out, witch! Get out and let me show this little one how a real man fucks."

Bellatrix snarled at him, her angry eyes on the girl beneath him.

"Use her while you can, beast, for the Dark Lord will be summoned soon." With a final mad smirk, she spat at him and dashed from the room.

Wiping the spit from his brow, he was glad to be rid of the psychotic witch. He turned his attention back to his shivering prey and nudged her with his boot.

“Turn over, girly. I want a look at you.” Her backside was pleasing in the extreme, especially painted as it was with blood and bruises already turning purple, courtesy of the beating he'd given her. But he wanted to see her tits and her cunt.

She tried to rise to her hands and knees, but Bellatrix's Cruciatus had taken its toll; her body was wracked again with spasms. The strength and determination that she had shown earlier was gone and all she could manage was to crawl weakly towards the door in a last effort to escape.

He laughed.

“What did I tell you, Mudblood?” He reached down and grabbed a fistful of hair, shaking her. “You aren't going anywhere. You’re mine and you're going to pay for that stunt you pulled earlier.” He pulled her up to her knees and studied her with growing hunger.

“You’re too thin and you got small tits,” he observed with disgust. He grasped one and squeezed, his nails digging into her pale, tender flesh. He rubbed his thumb over her softened nipple, and then flicked it hard enough to make her squeal in pain. “Not even a handful.”

She had both hands wrapped around his wrist in an attempt to ease the pressure he was putting on her scalp. "Please, p-please d-don't...oh God...p-please..." she wept. "I'll t-tell you a-anything.”

"Too late. You should’ve told that batty bitch when you had the chance. I, unlike her, don’t give a fuck about what you know. You're nothing but a worthless Mudblood hole and I'm going to _eat_ you!" Greyback snarled. He grinned wide then, showing her his stained teeth. "After I fuck you first, that is."

She stared at him like a forsaken child, her pupils so dilated that her brown eyes looked black. He leaned closer and licked the corner of her lips, where the blood still oozed down slowly. Moaning, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy.

"So delicious. So very, very delicious."

He pushed her down onto the floor in front of the massive hearth, the heat from the fire bringing another layer of pungent sweat to his skin. Leaning over her and dipping his head close to her cunt, he inhaled deeply. Her female scent was rich and heady; he was only mildly disappointed that she wasn't bleeding. The taste of a fertile woman's bloody cunt was a delicacy indeed. No, she wasn't bleeding, but the earthy scent told him that she was only days from it, which was good enough for him.

Oh, the fun he would have with her!

Crawling up her body, he pried her legs apart with his knees when she tried to force them together to prevent his intrusion. To keep her in place, and splayed open for him, he tucked her thighs under his weighty knees, effectively pinning her to the floor and unable to squirm away. Her moans of pain were like the sweetest music to his ears.

Glancing over to the hearth, he spied several brass pokers kept nearby to stir the fire. Reaching over, he selected one and laid it amongst the burning logs, his eyes glinting with the light of his arousal, his madness. When it glowed cherry-red, he pulled it from the bed of flames.

“Since you’re a Mudblood whore," he said, "You should be marked as one.”

“W-what are you doing?” she whispered in a voice hoarse from screaming. She was frozen in terror; as she followed the progress of the poker she began to shake, the dread overwhelming her. "What are you _doing_?"

Caressing the tender skin of her abdomen, his large hand splayed out above her pubic bone, he hefted the iron aloft in his hand so that she could see the bright red 'M'.

“This ‘M’ may stand for Malfoy, but we both know it really means Mudblood, don't we, girly?”

Before she could react with anything more than a stunned shriek, he pushed the poker against her cunt, branding the letter into her flesh. The blazing iron hissed as it burned away her pubic hair and blistered the skin beneath. The sickening smell of it made his mouth fill with saliva, drool dripping off the ends of his ragged whiskers as he howled.

The girl was thrashing beneath him, her hands clawing at his arm, ripping bloody furrows in his leathery skin. Her eyes had rolled back in their sockets and the tendons in her neck stood out as she screamed. She screamed, and she screamed, until her voice cracked and failed her utterly.

“Squirm all you want, whore,” he said with a leer. He reached up and squeezed one of her small breasts, digging his fingertips into the flesh until he could see the bruises forming on her pale skin. He tightened his thumb and forefinger onto her nipple and twisted it viciously. “Ginger won't want your Mudblood cunt now, will he?”

She was going into shock, clammy and shivering despite the sweat that was rolling off of her. She was staring up at him with an eerie blankness that was well known to him. He'd sent more than one screaming female over the edge into madness and the scent of her terror had a tinge of insanity about it.

Tossing the poker back into the fire, he rose to his feet and stripped off his clothes and his boots. When she shifted jerkily against the floor, as if to attempt another pointless escape, he pushed his bare foot against the brand, grinding it into her pelvis until she wailed in agony.

Looming over her, he spat into his hand and grasped his prick, idly spreading the thick saliva over the head. Dropping back down to the floor, he seized hold of her knees and shoved them apart. When he was wedged back between her thighs, he tried to push into her, but she was so dry his prick just dragged against her skin. Slipping one finger between her labia, he roughly sliced the edge of his thumbnail into the thin flesh; blood welled around his fingers. Sticking them in his mouth, he savored the sweet metallic taste and the bits of her flesh that clung to his nail.

"Please," she moaned. "Please don't h-hurt me a-anymore.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as the hopelessness of the situation came crashing down upon her.

He laughed at that as he reached down and slicked the head of his prick in the girl's blood, an involuntary groan of pleasure escaping his throat. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut, but as he sheathed himself inside her in one brutal thrust, those haunted eyes snapped open and she screamed like a mortally wounded animal.

She struggled in an effort to dislodge him, but her waning strength was no match for his own. He bore down on her knees until she was nearly bent double, and set a brutal pace. Her cunt was vise-tight and feverishly hot; he shifted so that he could again grasp one of her bruised breasts, scraping his nails over her pink nipple, before leaning over to rasp his tongue over the thins streaks of blood oozing from the wounds.

He knew the exact moment she gave up. When the last of the fiery light in her eyes died and she stared up at the ceiling, her mouth still open in a now-silent scream, he knew then that she had accepted her fate. She knew what she was now – his Mudblood whore.

Grasping another fistful of her long hair, he jerked her head back to an uncomfortable angle. Her slender, white throat was a nearly irresistible temptation; he wanted very much to rip it out and drink deep, but Lucius's earlier words intruded and while he had little respect for the Dark Lord, he was no fool, either. Voldemort would want to dispose of the girl himself and he planned to do whatever it took to ensure that the girl was given to him as payment for capturing Harry Potter.

He shook her head until her empty gaze refocused on his face. “I can feel you clench around me, bitch,” he grunted into her ear as he continued to pump savagely inside her. “You’re a good little deviant. I think I'll keep you. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Huh? Maybe I'll let you eat Ginger – after I'm done with him. You can suck on my leftovers like an obedient little bitch. Then you can suck my prick again with your face coated in his blood. You’d enjoyed that, huh, girly?"

Some deeply buried remnant of courage and fury reared up in her at the mention of her friend. Before he could gather his wits enough to stop her, she'd raised her clawed hands to his face, tearing at his skin and sinking one thumb deep into his left eye.

He felt his eyeball give, felt her thumbnail scrape against the bone surrounding his eye socket. Bloody-tinged viscera spilled out of the ruined eye and splattered onto her face. As he howled and scrambled backwards, one hand cupped over his ruined, throbbing eye, he screamed, "YOU FUCKING BITCH!"

She rolled over and crawled to the hearth, grasping the poker with which he had branded her. With a guttural shriek, she swung it wildly, connecting with the side of his face and opening a deep gash on his jaw. She raised it again, looking as glorious as any hell-spawned goddess, and prepared to bring it down on his head in a killing blow.

He was going to _kill_ her.

Snatching up his knife, which was laying on the hearthstones, he lunged forward and tackled her to the floor. She dropped the poker, and it rolled harmlessly away to rest beside the fireplace. He then backhanded her once, twice, before rolling her onto her stomach. With an enraged snarl, he drove the knife into her right shoulder and straight through to the floor beneath. She wailed in anguish as he pulled her hips up and slammed back inside her.

"I reckon you'll stay put now, huh? I'm gonna fuck you to _death_ , you filthy Mudblood cunt."

Spreading the cheeks of her arse, he dug one thumb past the tight ring of her anus, pushing in all the way to the last knuckle and with his fingers splayed across her lower back, he used that grip for leverage to jerk her back onto his hardened prick. With his other hand, he grasped her skull and pulled her head back so far that she gurgled in a desperate attempt to breathe.

"Oh, girly, you're a splendid fuck." He leaned over her, licking the blood welling around the handle of the knife. His face was throbbing in pain, but the bloodlust was paramount; nothing else mattered but ending this girl's worthless life. He jammed his thumb deeper into her arse, and then jerked it out, replacing it with his prick, pushing into her arse with only the sticky remnants of her blood to ease the way.

The force of his thrust ripped the knife out of the floor, shredding the girl’s shoulder in the process. She vomited before fainting at last, her abused mind and body seeking refuge in unconsciousness.

Bracing one foot on her uninjured shoulder, he continued to fuck her, more erratic now that his climax was imminent. So caught up in his rising pleasure, he didn't hear Bellatrix reenter the room until she shrieked with laughter.

"Still at it, beast?" she cackled. "She took it right up the arse, did she? Just like a nasty Mudblood."

He turned his head, his good eye focusing on the mad witch and her horrified companions.

"Shut up, witch," he growled. "Look what this whore has done to me!"

Before Bellatrix could answer him, he was coming. He raised his face to the ceiling, a haunting howl escaping his lips as he dug his claws into the meat of the girl's hips to hold her steady. With a final thrust, he slammed his prick deep into her arse, his spunk boiling up out of his balls like lava. He continued to grind inside of her until the red haze of his pleasure began to fade.

Panting, he pulled out of her and kicked her over onto her side. Rising to his feet, he turned to face Bellatrix and the Malfoys. Narcissa turned away, a look of disgust on her aristocratic face. The boy, Draco, was staring at the girl's crumpled form, his expression carefully blank, his hands clenched at his sides.

Grasping his softening prick, he shook the final drips of come and blood from the tip. He grinned at Bellatrix. "She put up quite a fight. You're lucky I left her alive."

"I'm lucky? I'd say you are, beast, since it will mean your head if the Dark Lord is displeased." Bellatrix looked down at the girl. "Bring her to me," she said, as she pulled a knife from a sheath around her waist.

He hauled the girl to her knees. He slapped her hard to wake her, but she still remained unconscious. Bellatrix huffed impatiently.

"Must I do everything around here? _Rennervate!_ " she said, with a flick of the wand in her other hand.

The girl twitched and opened her eyes, crying out as he dragged her limp and unresisting body into the center of the room.

"On your knees, bitch," he snarled, as he pushed her forcefully to her knees and held her immobile with one hand around her throat and the other clamped around the top of her head.

Bellatrix drew the tip of her dagger along the girl's face, from temple to chin, opening up a narrow, bleeding gash.

"Having fun, little girl?" she crooned. "Looks like you did a bit of damage of your own."

The girl could only stare at her, dazed and deeply in shock. She was covered in her own blood, and stank of sweat and burnt flesh. Annoyed with the girl’s lack of response, Bellatrix grabbed her left wrist and pulled her arm out straight.

"Let's give you another reminder of what you are, shall we?"

Then, with the tip of the blade, she began carving into the soft flesh of her forearm; the ragged letters spelled out M-U-D-B-L-O-O-D.

"Perhaps the Dark Lord will reward you for your outstanding service here tonight, Greyback," Bellatrix said as she wiped the blade clean on her skirt and tucked it away.

"All I want is the girl. He can keep the Galleons." He rubbed his prick against the girl's neck. He was already getting hard again. Bellatrix smirked at the evidence of his arousal.

"That good, was she? This skinny little Mudblood?"

He laughed in amusement. "Once I have her properly trained, she'll offer up her cunt on her hands and knees when I so much as snap my fingers. If I don't eat her first."

"Take her if you want her."

"Bellatrix, perhaps we should wait," Lucius said from behind her. The witch sighed in exasperation and turned to face him. But, before she could answer, the door to the drawing room burst open and the girl's two friends burst in. Ginger was screaming, the Potter boy close on his heels. Bellatrix swung around, lifting her wand towards the boys.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " the redheaded boy yelled, pointing a wand that he recognized as Wormtail's at her. Bellatrix’s own wand was blasted into the air and flew towards Potter, who caught it one-handed.

He froze, not quite believing his eyes before quickly Summoning his own wand from where he'd left it with his clothing. He fired off a Dark spell, but Potter evaded his curses. Lucius Malfoy fell in the crossfire, his body lifted up and flung against the hearthstones.

Bellatrix pulled the girl out of his arms; she held her dagger to the girl's throat, digging the tip into the skin under her chin. "STOP OR SHE DIES!" she screamed.

Within a matter of moments the battle turned against them. He found himself disarmed and Stunned by Potter himself and as he was thrown aside, the crystal chandelier crashed to the floor, showering them all with glass and burying the girl beneath its iron framework.

Struggling to his feet, his head was swimming from the effects of the stunner and the damage to his eye. Ginger was already crawling over the floor to get to the girl. He couldn't, he _wouldn't_ allow that to happen.

Bellatrix was now screaming in rage at a small house elf that was facing her fearlessly. He was pointing at her, quivering with righteous fury.

"Dobby has no master! Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!"

The red-headed brat had pulled the girl free of the chandelier and he was sobbing at the sight of her, his hands fluttering helplessly over the knife still embedded in her shoulder. He lunged forward, reaching for the girl's ankle. Just before his fingers grazed her foot, the house elf had taken the boy’s hand and Disapparated. Bellatrix threw her dagger after them and he could see it connect with the tiny elf's chest seconds before they vanished from sight.

An utter silence fell over the room, broken only by Narcissa's sobs and the tinkling of glass. Bellatrix screamed.

"You imbeciles! You fucking worthless imbeciles! They've gotten away! And the Dark Lord has been summoned and is on his way as we speak! Do you know what this _means?_ "

As Bellatrix continued to panic, his remaining amber eye stared at the spot where the girl had last lain. What had Scabior called her? Granger? Yes, that was it. Hermione Granger.

He smiled darkly, any fear of the Dark Lord's certain wrath vanishing as he plotted. He would take her back, for he had marked her as his with his bite. He would find Hermione Granger and he would steal her away from her friends and her family and this cursed country. He would take her so far away, no one would ever find her.

And she would be his.

~fin~


End file.
